


whose world is this

by withoutwords



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Fluff, Infidelity, Internalised Homophobia, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Underage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 10:24:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8442082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withoutwords/pseuds/withoutwords
Summary: It’s the same Isak who does his own laundry, and cooks his own dinner, and calls his dad for money because Eskild’s empty threats of kicking him out are starting to get on his nerves. The same walking, talking Isak.But now he kisses boys.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from a NAS song, _The World Is Yours_ , and no I’m not into 90’s hip-hop. I’m just into Skam, haha. Also, this is coming from someone who is painfully unilingual, so if anything feels out of place please let me know. Thanks so much.

Isak’s gay. He knows that now, beyond the stupid internet quizzes and the cryptic lines of questioning to Eskild, Sana, his mum. He’s gay, but only until he’s at his door, or putting on his shoes, or throwing on his snapback and pulling up his hood. Only until he’s outside, or with his boys, or throwing looks across the yard to where a pretty girl’s sat, because that’s who he is. That’s his world.

(Isak’s gay, but he can’t. That’s for some other time, some other place, _some other Isak_.)

Then Isak sees Even. He sees Even and can’t get the words out for all the mess in his head. He sees Even and maybe he could pretend it was the weed, burning at the back of his throat, but maybe it’s the way Even looks at him just a little too long. And not long enough.

 _Hello,_ Even says on the train, and

 _Join me?_ Even says on the street, and

 _Later_ , Even says in his apartment, in _his_ bedroom, so far away from the cover of Isak’s own.

It feels real, too real, more real than anything else he’s had to call his. Even’s eyes are light, and they’re dark, and his mouth looks good curled around a joint (settled, like maybe he does it a lot). His face lights up when he smiles, and his throat’s always moving, always working, and it feels like an invitation, like an oath. 

All the things Isak buried are coming back to life.

Even’s drawing them out.

*

When Even kisses him, he becomes someone new. It sounds stupid – sappy shit, like all the movies Even wants to make some day – but it feels true. When he’s sprawling out across his bed with Even weighing him down. When he’s whispering quietly into the dark, _that was wild, you’re nuts, what was that._

When he’s skimming his fingers across Even’s skin, or pressing his tongue against Even’s pulse or rolling his hips and thrusting his dick and giving into everything he’s feeling, fuck it. That’s not Isak.   

Except it is.

It’s the same Isak who stashed his mate’s drugs, or ran from the cops, or put his fist through a wall because his dad left his mum and nothing really made sense. It’s the same Isak who does his own laundry, and cooks his own dinner, and calls his dad for money because Eskild’s empty threats of kicking him out are starting to get on his nerves. The same walking, talking Isak.

But now he kisses boys.

(A boy.)

 _Have you done this before?_   Even asks, tracing patterns on Isak’s back, lips fluttering at his forehead. _With a guy, I mean._

 _Uh, no,_ Isak says around a cough, because he’s not sure if that’s okay or not. _You?_

_Not really._

Isak scoffs at him and Even laughs. _Not really?_

_Well, there was a boy. He lived next door to me. He liked to give me flowers._

_This is just one of your stories_ , Isak decides, but he doesn’t want him to stop, he never wants him to stop.

_No, no, no._ _It’s true. So I got all the flowers together, and made him a crown, and told him he’d always be the ruler of my heart._

_That’s dumb._

Even shrugs. _That’s love._

Isak huffs at him again, and grabs onto him, and pulls him close. Their noses press, and their mouths press, and he wonders what would happen if they just kept pressing. He wonders how close they could get before they didn’t know who was who.

He doesn’t say it out loud.

*

Isak’s always been a good liar when he’s lying to himself. _It’s fine, it doesn’t matter, it won’t happen, you’ll move on_ , helped him to a point – but now with all those lies breaking open, now with all these new lies trying to patch them back together. He can tell Emma stories, and weave bullshit to the boys, but they all know. Everyone knows. Isak’s different now. He’s changing.

He’s changing as he clings to his phone, waiting for a text.

He’s changing as he hovers by classroom doors, keeping watch.

He’s changing as he feels a cold sweat, and a lump in his throat, and _doubt, doubt, doubt_.

The world just rolled by, for a long time. This world, and the world where his parents stayed together, and the world where Isak wore a pride t-shirt and marched on the streets. The worlds all rolled by, all turned over, until Even. Now everything’s just stopped. Now everything pales when he’s not around.

 _Stop this shit, man_ , Jonas hisses from beside him in class. _Tell me what’s going on._

 _Nothing!_ Isak says, feigning offence. He feels like his heart might beat from his chest with his mistruths. _Nothing, I just -_

_You gotta stop using your mum as an excuse, that’s wrong._

_It’s not an excuse I -_

_Tell me!_

_I can’t!_

Isak would like to, is the thing. He _wants_ to. I met a guy, he’d say, a special guy, a guy who excites me and worries me and turns me on, a guy who feels like home. A guy I don’t understand sometimes, and maybe he doesn’t understand himself, but that’s okay. That’s fine. We’ll work it out. I want to work it out. Together.

 _Are you in trouble?_ Jonas asks, the anger dissipating into something else, into concern.

 _No,_ Isak says, but that feels like the biggest lie.

*

Even’s real. He has spots on his face, and chapped lips, and long spindly fingers and strong wrists. He’s soft and lithe and his toes are funny looking and he makes these little breathy sounds when he kisses like he’s coming up for air. He has a beautiful laugh, and he has an awesome record collection, and he has a _Moulin Rouge_ poster stuck to the back of his closet door.

Even has a girlfriend. And it was easy to ignore, perched on the back of Even’s bike with his hands around his waist. And it was easy to forget, tangled in Isak’s sheets. And it was easy to forgive when they were sopping wet and giggling and pretending to sneak peeks at each other as they stripped down to nothing to change. As they wrestled each other down onto the bed and finally surrendered to it all.

Except it’s been two days since Isak saw Even.

And he’s probably with Sonja.

 _If you want to talk,_ Eskild tries to say, and,

 _Look, Isak, the truth is,_ Noora starts, but he can’t do it. He can’t be who they’re expecting him to be when he doesn’t know what that is. What Even might be. What they are. 

 _I’m fine_ , he tells them, the same way he tells Jonas, and his dad, and the silence. He’s fine. It’s just intermission. He’s just waiting for the second half to start, for Even to come back onto his stage.

*

Even sits across from Isak at the cafeteria. He looks tired, and he looks down, like maybe the guilt’s too heavy for him. It’s not a side of him that Isak’s used to. It’s not a side that he likes.

 _Sorry_ , Even says. _I got sick. The swimming, and the cold, you know_.

 _Okay,_ Isak says, and stops. He doesn’t say, you could have text that. He doesn’t say, you left me alone with my thoughts. He doesn’t say, you like me, I know you like me, can we just fast forward and skip this part. Can you just choose me, now? Please?

 _Can I – are you home tonight?_ Even asks in low tones, flickering looks up from where he’s picking at a nail.

_Maybe. I guess._

_Well can I – could I come over?_

_Yeah._

When Even smiles it’s like he never stopped. He steals bread from Isak’s tray and he bites at his lip and he leans in enough that he can say quietly, _I’ve missed you_ , before walking off.

Isak watches him go. The whole way.

It aches.

*

Isak’s got no plans, right now. No plans for tomorrow, or next week, or next year. No plans aside from finishing school, or maybe getting a job, or maybe moving out of town where he can be something more. Or something else. He’s not like Jonas, who’s good with numbers, or Mahdi who’s obsessed with his model planes. He’s not like Even who wants to write scripts, and design sets, and make movies.

He’s not like any one.

He’s not definite.

 _This looks good_ , Even tells Isak as he’s scribbling on Isak’s forearm. _You should get a tattoo._

Isak looks down at it skeptically. _It looks like a pumpkin._

_It is a pumpkin._

He pulls a face. _Why?_

_You know. Cinderella._

_What?_

_Cinderella_ , Even says again, laughing, throwing the pen across the room so he can straddle Isak’s hips. Isak feels his warmth right through his skin, right through to his belly, right through to his bones. He feels warmth from his head to his toes, and he wants to sink into it. He wants to get lost. _You’re just a normal boy, now, but with a magical pumpkin you can go to the ball._

 _You’re so fucking weird_ , Isak tells him, but he says it soft, he says it like, you’re perfect just the way you are. He thinks Even gets it.

_Aren’t we all?_

Even kisses desperate. He kisses with a wet, open mouth, with a hand fisted in Isak’s hair and pulling just enough to hurt. He tips Isak’s head to where he wants it, getting his mouth on Isak’s neck instead. He sucks and bites and laps until Isak is a thriving mess beneath him.

 _What is this?_ he asks between panting breaths, scratching at Even’s back, grabbing at his arse. _What am I?_

 _You’re beautiful_ , Even tells Isak’s collarbone, nosing at his throat and breathing warm against his skin. _You’re so fucking beautiful._

In this world, the curtains aren’t yellow. Isak’s not straight. Even has a girlfriend. In this world, this is their set – the room, and the bed, and the way their thighs rub together, the way the denim scratches – imperfectly perfect. In this world, Even knows Isak different than any one has, and he keeps it secret, like he keeps everything else.

Isak likes this production.

He’ll keep playing.

*

Isak has two missed calls and three unanswered texts. He has his laptop open watching _The Great Gatsby_ , a bowl of _KiMs_ abandoned on his bedside table. He has a drawing of himself that Even did, walking down a street, captioned, _looking cool listening to NWA_.

It’s pinned above his bed.

When Eskild knocks on his door Isak doesn’t send him away.

He lets him come in, and sit beside him, and put an arm around his shoulders.

He lets him watch the movie, and they both pretend that’s why he’s crying.

 _Remember_ , Eskild whispers as the credits roll. _If he loves you_.

*

Isak’s phone buzzes.

_(He’ll choose you.)_

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr is here](http://thefancyspin.tumblr.com) \- but honestly I don't post much skam content at this stage, jsyk x
> 
> ETA: HA. HHAHAHA. Yeaaahhh, come talk to me about Skam. A lot.


End file.
